Old Wounds
by Wolf of the Aurora
Summary: Elizabeth Beurling thinks back to the year it all began: 1939. It was a time when she was good humored and playful with her best friend and rival. So what happened to her in Ostmark? The answers lay in her old wounds.
1. Old Memories

**Old Wounds**

**-1-**

**Old Memories**

**Slussen, Suomus**

**February 1940**

A cold yellow light sliced through the snowy night as the putter of a motorcycle could be heard. It stopped under the barrel shaped sign of the tavern and the engine shut off. The rider in her leather jacket sat up and lit a cigarette. It was Elizabeth F. Beurling of the Suomus Independent Volunteer Squadron, more commonly known as "The Misfits". Despite only being 19 years old, she looked much older than she is; probably because she is a heavy drinker, smoker, and has graying brown hair. After a couple puffs, the witch headed inside. Inside was dim and smoky with an overall gloomy mood. Only a couple of tables were occupied but she didn't pay any attention to anyone until a certain person, an oriental with her head down on the bar, caught her eye.

"No one ever beats me to the pub," Elizabeth commented as she brushed snow off her hair and walked up to the Fusoan.

The other witch didn't respond and kept her face planted on the counter.

"You look like absolute shit," Elizabeth said as she noticed the empty alcohol bottles next to her. "What happened this time?"

The witch let out a groan and turned her head slightly so she could see Elizabeth.

"I just found out that Itokawa was a woman." Tomoko Anabuki slurred her words. "And to think that I actually felt like I was falling in love with him...her...it."

"Well, she loves you and if you love her, it doesn't matter if you are straight, gay, lesbians, bi, or whatever. Just as long as it is real love, it's fine," Elizabeth as she opened a beer bottle. "Well, that's just my two cents."

Tomoko let out another sighing groan as she witnessed Elizabeth guzzle down an entire bottle and asked for another one. The Faraway Landian raised her question again.

"Still. Why are you here? You tried coping with the news by drinking and kicking our asses into training at three in the morning. I think Ahonen is still angry from us stealing their Messerscharfs for your training."

"I think there's something else but I don't bother remembering it at the moment," Tomoko said.

Elizabeth offered Tomoko a cigarette but the Fusoan declined and rolled her face back onto the wood. So much has happened since the SIVS was formed. They started out as a ragtag team of misfits who had difficulty handling their self confidence, let alone the Neuroi. By some miracle of rapid unification they came together and were able to defeat a Diomedia. Then came the fall of Slussen, the Stuka girls, Tomoko's adjustment to the Ki-44, and the recapture of Slussen.

_Wait...the Stuka girls?"_

"Come to think of it, what happened to you and Rudel in Ostmark?" Tomoko asked as she tried to sit up straight.

"You know that story. We went through hell. My rival was killed, Rudel got her scar, and I became a depressed drunk."

"You weren't always like this?" Tomoko's interest peaked. "And it sounded like you were the one that gave Rudel that." Tomoko pushed against the bridge of Elizabeth's nose indicating where Hanna Rudel would have hers.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I think there's an interesting story behind that, albeit tragic."

"Don't expect me to do training for a while if I tell you."

"Does it look like _I'm_ fit for training?" Tomoko said, half jokingly.

"Okay, then fine," Elizabeth said as she poured half a bottle of whiskey down her throat and slammed it on the bar.


	2. Same Shift, Different Day

**-2-**

**Same Shift, Different Day**

_As you may have heard, I spent time with the International Neuroi Observation as part of its air-wing. I was station in Ostmark where it was closest to the Black Sea. There was a Hive over the Black Sea near the Dacian coast and we were to observe only as it could be dangerous if we attacked. Not as if anyone was pining to enter that black cloud._

_Everyone was on edge when we first got there, but a week passed and nothing happened. Then a month, then a year... We became very lax about our duties but we did them anyway. Get up, eat something, patrol, go to bed. That was it really. Just the same shit on a different day._

* * *

**Near the Ostmarkian-Dacian Border, Ostmark**

**August 1939**

Elizabeth quickly breathed in the crisp morning air as she jogged down the runway. The wind blew through her hair, which was still a perfect rich brown that shined against the rising sun. She was enjoying her jog until she heard rapid footfalls quickly growing louder as they gained on her.

"On your left!" Elizabeth heard.

With no time to react, a figure flashed by Elizabeth and soon she was staring at the back of her overtaker's head.

_Light brown hair, slightly curly, and in a ponytail. Yep, that's definitely her._

Elizabeth broke into a run as she chased after her rival.

Elizabeth slowed to a stop in front of the hanger and rested her hands on her knees. Her rival continued to run to the end of the runway and back as it wasn't far from the hangar.

As usual, there were spectators to see the two witches compete but the number slowly dropped as it became a common occurrence. Laura Toth was maintaining her Strikers when she saw the witches exchange words.

"How long were they at it this time?" Eugenia Horbaczewski asked.

"Only about half an hour. The observation patrols seem to tire them out. If it keeps up, I may actually get some sleep around here," Laura said with amusement.

"It's not like you sleep much to begin with," Eugenia joked.

Elizabeth's body heaved as she took in deep breaths. Her rival, Gallian-Faraway Landian Jacqueline Paradis, skipped up to her and twirled around on one leg.

"Looks like it's another win for me," Jacqueline said in a sing-song voice.

"I was running longer than you were," Elizabeth countered.

"Oh, can't handle a little friendly competition?"

"I can handle it just fine!" Elizabeth said playfully as she jumped up, catching Jacqueline off guard. Elizabeth put her in a head lock and rubbed her head as Jacqueline let out squeaks of protest. Jacqueline broke out of the headlock and grabbed Elizabeth around the waist and the two continued their playful scuffle.

"Pilot Officers!"

They broke apart and stood to attention. Walking towards them was the Ostmakian witch Alexandra Serbanescu. The soon to be 503rd Joint Fighter Wing witch didn't have the scar that would reside over her left eye.

"You two may want to save your energy. After breakfast at eight, you are to take a patrol out." Alexandra leaned in closer to them and continued in a lower voice. "I personally don't mind a bit of rough housing, but please don't break anything. Gollob would be pissed!"

"Sure."

"No problem."

Alexandra left, and the witches looked at each other. They both began to laugh at something. Probably the demented smiles they gave each other.

"How is it that she can give us orders? She's a lower rank than we are!" Jacqueline said her, sides aching.

"I think it's something to do with that "this is her country and we are the foreigners" type of thing," Elizabeth said.

"Ah, whatever. Come on. We'd better changed."

Elizabeth went her room to get out of her work out clothes and into her uniform. It consisted of a white buttoned up shirt, a dark blue tie, and a black jacket one may find on dress blues. A pair of pants did come with the uniform but like most witches, she didn't wear them. Instead she pulled on black pantyhose. Around the waist, she wore a brown leather waist belt with a matching holster on the right of her waist where she keeps her Browning Hi-Power Mk 1. Last but not least, she threw on her officer's cap and headed out the door. Jacqueline was waiting when Elizabeth stepped out of her room. She wore the same outfit as Elizabeth with a few changes. She wore her cap tilted to the right and instead of a pistol in a holster, she had a kukri in its sheath stored horizontally on the back of her belt.

The two seventeen year old witches had so much in common that they are often mistaken as sisters and one of them would most likely reply, "Yes, she's my sister from another mother."

They entered they hangar where two other witches with cameras were waiting for them and hopped into their Strikers. Elizabeth grew the floppy ears and tail of a Dachshund while Jacqueline had white black-tipped ears and a white tail of a Labrador Husky. The duo started up their Hawker Hurricane Mk IIs and lifted up into the air with the photographers close behind them.

* * *

Jacqueline stretched her arms with a yawn as she waited in the hangar. After a while, Strikers could be heard in the distance and were soon in the hangar.

"Did you take the scenic route or something?" Jacqueline asked Elizabeth as she hopped out of her Strikers. The witch who was with Jacqueline responded before Elizabeth could.

"Oh come off it, Jackie. They had to cover more ground than we did."

"That's one for me I believe," Elizabeth said.

"What do you want to do now? We did our assignment already." Jackie stretched.

"Shooting range?" Elizabeth asked.

"Eh, why not."

As the competitors walked away, one of the recon witches leaned toward the other.

"So who has more points again?" she asked.

"I don't know. I don't even think they keep score."

The shooting range wasn't much. It was a large flat 200 meter or so long piece of open ground with shooting positions on one side and targets on the other with more targets at various distances in between. The range wasn't empty. A couple soldiers were there firing their rifles and Laura was instructing Waltraud Nowotny, a trainee at the time, on how to use an MG 34. The bipod was deployed and Waltraud was prone.

"Okay, you see how there is space for two of your fingers in the trigger guard? Pull the top half to fire in semi-auto. Go ahead and fire a few rounds," Laura instructed.

Waltraud used her index finger and pulled the trigger three times and three rounds went down range.

"Pull the bottom half or use your index and middle finger to pull the entire trigger to fire full-auto." Laura patted Waltraud's head and the trainee fired the remaining ten rounds in the belt.

"Just a suggestion. If you plan on carrying it around, you should either hold it by the bipod or wear a glove. Don't want to burn our hands now, do we?" Laura said with a good natured smile. Waltraud smiled and shook her head. Laura was about to get to barrel changing when Elizabeth and Jackie walked past.

"Well if it isn't the two witches from a land far, far away," Laura joked.

"Hey, you nearly got our country's name correct," Elizabeth said in good humor.

She picked a spot a couple spaces down from Laura was, considering she didn't want to throw hot brass into their faces and the Ostmarkians probably wouldn't appreciated burning slag raining down on them. Jackie set up next to Elizabeth and set a crate of .303 Britannian ammunition between them. Elizabeth was first to load and fire. She pulled the charging handle back on her bipod-less M1918 "A2" BAR and let the gun chug at a slow 300 rounds per minute. It's a so called "A2" variant as it was thrown together with parts of different models. Elizabeth ejected the 20 round magazine, inserted a fresh one, and flipped the selector switch. She raised it to her shoulder and dumped the magazine at 600 rounds per minute. Jackie had just loaded her Bren with a thirty round magazine and fired down range from the hip. Jackie gestured to grab more ammo when a pale woman with raven colored hair walked past. She held two guns; one was an MG 34 (not much of a surprise there) and the other was a Gallian Chauchat.

"Hey, Constantia," Jackie walked up to the Dacian witch.

"Yes?" Constantia asked as she loaded the distinctive crescent moon shaped magazine.

"What do you plan on doing with that?" Jackie pointed to the Chauchat.

"I plan on shooting it."

"I know, but...you know it's crap right?"

"Maybe you'll learn something." The Dacian witch set up a firing position on a table to keep it up and away from the dust and the dirt. She pulled the bolt back and after a long pause, she squeezed the trigger and emptied the magazine in two 10 round bursts. Jackie just gawked at what she just witnessed. Elizabeth ran up.

"Did I hear that correctly? A Chauchat fired an entire mag without a jam?"

Constantia nodded and removed the magazine.

"That's almost unheard of."

"Not quite," Constantia began. "This is an M1915 Chauchat chambered in 8mm Lebel. A very crude weapon, yes, but quite effective for when it was made. Sure, the rate of fire has a lot to be desired-"

She was interrupted by rapid rifle fire and everyone looked down the lane to see Eugenia holding an empty Kbsp wz.38M with a mischievous smile on her face.

"Thanks for proving my point," the Dacian continued. "All the hate for the Sho-Sho came from the Liberions when they converted it to fire their .30-06 rounds. With the 8mm, if it's maintained and clean, it works. I got to give it to the Gallians; they sure can make weapons out of scrap."

The duo left Constantia to operate her MG 34 and went back to their spots. After going through a few more magazines, Elizabeth set the BAR down and upholstered her Hi-Power. She aimed for a metal silhouette at ten meters and double tapped, hitting it twice. She moved on to the next set at thirty meters then to another at fifty meters. Feeling lucky, she tried to reach out to seventy meters but missed all her shots. Jackie was in a chair next to her and yawned.

"Why don't you get yourself a pistol Jackie?" Elizabeth asked.

"I would but there are just so many decisions to make. Stopping power or firepower? Big or small? Revolver or pistol? I think I'll just stick to hardened steel for the time being," Jackie said patting her Kukri.

"Maybe you can start thinking about it now," Elizabeth suggested, holding out the empty pistol. Jackie took it and when she started firing down range a group of Karlsland witches entered the range. They all wore the same uniform: a white jacket over a gray-blue dress shirt, a brown two-hole waist belt held up by suspenders with two pouches and a holster on the belt, and a garrison cap to match the shirt. They all took out their own Luger P08s and fired single handedly down range.

_Hm. I wonder why they still use those. I heard Walther made a new pistol that was a lot simpler._ Elizabeth internally shrugged._ Each to her own I guess._

Jackie had had enough and stretched.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" somebody panicked.

Jackie became wide awake once more and had unintentionally pointed the pistol at the long white-haired Karlslander next to her. The witch behind the Karlslander ran up to Jackie and forcefully ejected the magazine and racked the slide furiously. Nothing came out. It was empty.

"What were you thinking, pointing that thing at her?!" the witch shouted with worry. "You nearly gave poor Aldeheid a heart attack." The witch escorted Aldeheid to a chair. The witch in question was Hanna U. Rudel. Her eyes were wild after their shock, but with her unscathed face and angled green eyes, she had never lost her look of a serious beauty.

"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry," Jackie apologized as she stifled a yawn.

"Maybe you should get some sleep," Hanna suggested kindly. Jackie responded with another yawn.

"I still need to clean up..." Jackie said, looking at her and Elizabeth's weapons.

"Not to worry. Maxim! Halder! Help these two bring their weapons back to the armory," Hanna ordered. Two witches down the line confirmed and went to their tasks. Elizabeth holstered her Hi-Power and started guiding the sleepwalking witch to her room.

"Thank you, Hanna," Elizabeth said.

"No problem. It's for her safety and the safety of others."

It was dark by the time the Faraway Landians got to their rooms. Elizabeth undressed her friend down to her undershirt and panties then lay her gently onto her bed. Jackie snored softly as she slipped into her dreamland. Elizabeth pulled the sheets over her and kissed her on the forehead.

_Good night._

As Elizabeth settled into her own bed, she could see distant flares shooting into the sky outside her window. With nothing else to do, she watched the silent fireworks until the weight of her eyelids closed the curtains and signaled of her day.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of _Old Wounds_. Reviews would be greatly appreciated whether they'd be positive or negative (preferably constructive criticism). Anyways ladies and gents, take care and I'll catch you guys in the next chapter. **

**I based Jacqueline Paradis off of Jean Paradis. He's a French-Canadian pilot who was George Beurling's best friend. The Labrador Husky is a purebred originating from the Labrador region in Canada.**


End file.
